


these flashing lights (and beating hearts)

by royallyeffed



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: AU - Famous, Angst, F/F, Happy Ending, I promise, Slow Burn, asami is an actress, avatar world but no bending/avatar, i just wanted a Hollywood AU, korra is an MMA star, they're hot and famous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:35:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26799673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royallyeffed/pseuds/royallyeffed
Summary: They want two seconds without cameras pressed into their faces or people screaming their names. Asami is gorgeous and untouchable; the world knows it and exploits it. Korra is the title holding MMA fighter that has her leg broken on live TV; she wants to stop seeing it in replay. They're able to find solace in each other that they also find plastered on a tabloid and sealed with a kiss. Their fame and fortune threaten to crush them.
Relationships: Bolin/Opal (Avatar), Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 14
Kudos: 90





	1. Chapter One

It’s overwhelming; without denial, she can admit that to herself now. The flashing of the cameras, the prestige of the red carpet, and the sleek black limo that she almost dreads exiting. As the door is pulled open by her driver with a subtle click, the voices that spit at her threaten to drown her. 

“Miss Sato,” her driver greets with a slight bend at the waist and a swing of his arm towards the carpet. She looks his way, clearly in dismay -- how can he think clearly with this chaos surrounding him.

The flashes turn to lightning as the paparazzi become the storm and Asami nearly forgets how to breathe through the pain -- almost.

She exits and the air is her stage as she glides to her feet and floats through the chaos. They shout at her as if every time she blinks her eyes it’s their business. Her father is innocent anyways; he said so and he never lies to his girl.

Asami loves her father, and that’s why she’s here after all. His gala. His redemption event. His innocence.

“Asami! Asami! Asami!”

She makes the mistake of turning to the voice. Why is it this one that catches her attention?

“Asami!” The microphone is shoved over the luxurious rope and she trails her eyes up to discover a lanky man with classes and gelled hair. “Any comments on your father’s investigation! Is he innocent! Were you involved!”

They come to slaughter her as every word takes a cut into her skin, leaving her raw and bleeding. She has to answer -- she has honor, dignity. Asami turns to the man, leans to the microphone; Asami breathes. “We will aid in the investigation in every way possible and we will prove my father’s innocence.”

That is all that’s needed, she knows this as she nods once as a departure and continues walking into the event center. The doors are parted for her because of course they are; her father is rich, but she’s famous. Fame weighs more in most circles.

Her reputation hangs heavy as the doormen bow to her -- famous, but not royal, and the difference sends her stomach rolling into knots. She thanks them and doesn’t stammer, she’s used to this treatment in the worst way.

The first person to meet her inside is a butler. He’s handsome and that’s the very reason her father picked this man. The butler is tall, dark, and handsome. Everything a woman of her appeal is expected to be seen with. Though, expectations bite with bitter results, so she keeps this short rather than sweet.

“You are?” She prompts it and doesn’t want to be interested.

“Mako,” His reply is made in contrast and she feels that she’ll remember. His eyes are the gold her fortune is made from, his bent arm is the invitation she can walk all over. As she loops her arm through his, she knows he’s filled with confidence and she’s happy in the fact that she’s the only one that knows it’s based on something false.

“My father talked to you?”

Mako’s stammer gives him away, and it’s hard for Asami to admit that she takes a bit of joy in his crumbling confidence. She needs him to be humble, not naive.

“Yes.” His head hangs and his cheeks color from embarrassment -- that’s more to Asami’s speed.

“Well, nevertheless, maybe we can enjoy each other’s company,” she says with a smile. Now, she can be pretty; she doesn’t need this man thinking she’s only looks.

“I hope so,” he meets her eyes as they make their way to the ballroom. “My brother seems more obsessed with the food than anything else.”

A brother. Her mind sparks and she remembers why it’s so familiar.

Her conversation two weeks ago with a co-star in one of her movies shares the same black hair as the man she’s linked arms with. She realizes that the brother this coworker once described is her companion for the night.

“Bolin,” Asami offers with certainty, recognizing that Mako’s black suit with its red accents is one only Sato money can buy.

He sends a look her way that’s shaded with surprise. He settles into a warm smile. “Yes, he was extremely excited when you invited him and were so willing to let him bring guests. I can’t thank you enough.” It’s said as if rich people don’t do charity with reasons fueled by self-interest; her father is only willing to do all this because it makes him look trustworthy and popular again. “And thank you for the suit.”

Mako is charming, that is something Asami can’t ignore. But charm can’t fix the heavy feeling in her gut. “I’m just happy you guys could make it.” Her words are polite and that will have to do for tonight.

They enter the ballroom and the world sparkles in every grandeur way she’s accustomed to. The same can’t be said for her companion as he gawks at his surroundings. Surely he’s already been within the ballroom if her father had talked to him previously and Bolin is currently eating. Some people must be spellbound by luxury; especially when everything seems to be made of gold, maybe there isn’t adapting to it but just being born into it.

Hoping to knock him out of his haze, Asami does the leading despite the position of their arms or the courtesy it implies. Eyes begin to land on her and it’s the same look Mako is giving the gold ceiling -- Asami’s blood is gold, she’s gorgeous and she _knows_ it. They weave through the scattered groups, careful not to interrupt conversations. As Mako regains his step and takes the lead again, he asks if she would like to go to Bolin’s table. Asami nods her head as she smiles and waves to several acquaintances. As they walk, some people bow their heads in respect with a “Miss Sato” in greeting. 

He’s seated and facing away when they arrive at Bolin’s table. He’s the only person, which seems very fitting that he’s filled the table with plates that once held food. “Bo,” Mako greets happily. As Bolin turns, he reveals the plate he’s currently annihilating and he wipes his mouth with a black napkin. His wide smile is one Asami always takes joy in seeing, especially on set between takes.

“Mako! Asami!” Bolin stands and Asami finds that his black suit, adorned with a green vest, brings out the green in his eyes. She thinks he’s lovely and handsome as he takes her hand, bows, and plants a kiss on her knuckles. Bolin is always on stage, and this is another thing Asami is well accustomed to. He lays his hand on Mako’s shoulder. “Have a seat guys. Anywhere but here, though. I promised I’d keep this one safe.”

The seat on Bolin’s left has a blue, expensive looking coat draped over the top. And oh, yes, Asami remembers allowing Bolin his brother and one friend. Of course, that must be her seat.

Bolin pulls out a seat on the right for Asami, and Mako offers to help her with her coat. The help is a little over done, but she is modern royalty and it’s improper to refuse. Before any of them can shuffle around to their proper seats, a voice behind them rings crisp and cheerful. “Mako, you’re back!”

They all turn to the person the voice belongs to. Her blue eyes are the first things Asami notices, then it’s her short brown hair and her blue dress that is reminiscent of Water Tribe ceremonial attire. And yes, this girl is definitely Water Tribe. Asami can’t help but feel as if it’s her turn to bow and kiss a few knuckles.

“Oh, Asami,” Bolin begins excitedly. “This is my friend, Korra.”

“That’s me,” she says and Asami thinks it’s pride she hears laced in her tone.

What must this girl think of Asami’s red gown and gold jewelry: does Asami blend in with the room or does she spike intrigue in this new girl? She finds herself hoping for the latter. She can’t explain why she’s so concerned about this impression, as she’s never had to worry about her appearance before. Though, a thought hits her and suddenly she feels her cheeks redden; maybe it isn’t only about looking good for this new girl, but it’s more about _not_ appearing untouchable.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Asami Sato.” Korra’s outstretched hand is an offering that Asami accepts without hesitation. Her warm smile matches the Water Tribe girl, but not for very long. Their handshake ends and as they separate, Korra’s eyes float to Asami's coat draped over Mako’s forearm, and suddenly Asami wishes the world would disappear. For a reason Asami can’t name, she wishes she could rewind time.

“The pleasure is all mine.” This is the first sentence tonight that Asami has felt in her soul. She also feels that it will be the last one. Tonight is about honor and reputation, and she cannot afford to forget that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a multi-chapter fic that I'm super excited for, so let me know how you liked the first chapter! I have a rough outline of the plot, but I'm not sure how many chapters I want for this yet. I'll try to have the second chapter posted in the next week or two. See you next time and thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter Two

Korra would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little irritated; like, one hundred percent lying. The hot coils in her stomach keep increasing in heat and she’s trying to not scowl so deeply, but to no avail.

He keeps hovering over her, so maybe it’s annoyance in her stomach too. Whether it’s a touch to her forearm to get her attention or helping her with her chair, Mako keeps touching Asami. And like, Korra knows he’s doing it for show, but why does he have to  _ show off _ for her. 

Korra tried to participate in the conversation, she really does, but she finds poking at her food to be more interesting. It doesn’t do much for her agitation though.

“Did they reach out to you about coming to set Saturday to do a couple retakes?” She hears Asami ask Bolin. They’ve been talking about their movie for the last twenty minutes and again, Korra finds her food more interesting. The way her fork is poking at a piece of shrimp with the odd (yet delicious) golden sauce is absolutely fascinating if Korra has anything to say about it.

“Yes,” Bolin exclaims next to her. “I can’t believe their reason is bad lighting! Of all things, maybe we could’ve waited to shoot when it wasn’t cloudy.”

Asami’s laugh in response is so musical that, for a moment, Korra can’t hear the music coming from the band that’s on stage. Korra feels her attention rise from her food in time to see Asami smile. And wow, she didn’t think the girl was capable of anything else than a cold gaze.

“It is very interesting to think about what a day of shooting would be like if our directors had time management skills.” The humor is still evident in Asami’s voice, and it gets a rise out of Bolin as well. How dare this new girl have more charm at this table than Korra. Hell, she might as well steal Korra’s friends tonight too while she’s on such a roll.

Bolin and Asami’s conversation slowly fizzles out and the table becomes dry with nothing to do and little food left to eat. Maybe Korra shouldn’t have refused the server when he offered champagne.

“So, I see there’s dancing over there,” Mako says after clearing his throat and Korra looks at him to see him gesturing towards the area in front of the stage that is very obviously filled with people dancing in a formal manner with partners. “But what’s going on over there?”

This time, Korra doesn’t feel like making a snide remark about his obvious observations because she doesn’t know what’s going on either. In the direction of Mako’s gesture, there’s a long table, covered in a white cloth, and many people surround it on either side while looking down at something that must be on the table.

“That over there is a silent auction,” Asami answers. Korra looks at her and sees that she’s turned in her chair to look that direction as well. “My father and many of his business colleagues have donated items that those people are bidding on at that table. All the money goes to the Republic City Research Hospital, so it’s fun and for a good cause too.”

Korra notices Mako’s head tilt slightly in thought. “Oh, that’s actually a really cool idea,” he says. At the comment, Asami turns back to the table, first looking down at the table, then looking up and inadvertently meeting Korra’s eyes.

“Yes, it is.” Despite the heartfelt tone she says it in, her eyes give a flat impression, leaving Korra with the feeling that the tone is rehearsed and Asami might have a different opinion of it. She almost asks, but the eye contact she holds with Asami stretches and leaves her frozen. This is the first time Korra notes her green eyes; certainly not the same green as Bolin since hers are a lighter green -- Asami’s eyes sparkle like her gold earrings.

It’s becoming awkward though; they’re running out of conversation and Korra wishes they’d run out of eye contact too.

“Dancing sounds like the right move for me right now.” Bolin expresses the words with a smirk, and of course he’s aware of his pun. Korra can’t help but smile. This is exactly the escape Korra is itching for.

“Wanna dance with me, Bolin?” Korra pushes her chair back and stands, ready to do anything to convince Bolin to leave right this instant. 

“Yes, anything the lady wants!” He stands and holds his arm to her. As Korra loops her arm through his, she sees Mako stand as well. Korra thinks he asks Asami to dance, but she can’t be sure because Bolin is already guiding her to the dancefloor and the band’s music is getting louder with each step they take.

The band is playing an upbeat jazz number and Korra thinks that this is the perfect time for Bolin to want to do some complex dance. So as he offers to lead, Korra recognizes the glint in his eyes and the dropping of her stomach, and she offers the foxtrot instead which Bolin excitedly (and relievingly) agrees to. Korra becomes certain of what Mako and Asami chose to do when she sees them a few paces away from her, dancing almost awkwardly. And oddly enough, she finds herself having sympathy for Asami. She remembers having to dance with Mako occasionally when they were dating and she also remembers being the only one in the relationship who even knew how to dance. And Asami looks like she’s having just as much fun with it as Korra used to with the stiff arm placement and the rigid steps.

As Bolin and Korra begin slowly turning in the direction of the other two again, Korra looks their way and notices a pair of eyes are already on her. From over Mako’s shoulder, she meets Asami’s green-eyed gaze. It lasts for less than a second as Asami looks towards Mako and begins talking. As the look burns itself into Korra’s memory, she can’t help but feel as if it were a rather analytical look.

Korra’s stomach feels queasy as her heart drops a little. Why was Asami staring at her like that? Did she do something wrong?

Despite the lively conversation that Bolin had been having earlier when they first started dancing, he was shockingly quiet now. Korra decides that it isn’t her that’s queasy and she looks to Bolin and notices his pale complexion. “Bolin?” She asks, the concern she feels tangles itself in her tone. She stops their movements and places both her hands onto his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

With a slight shake of his head in response, Korra turns him towards the direction of Mako and Asami, prepared to guide her friend over and ask the location of the bathrooms, only to find the pair already walking briskly towards them.

“Bathrooms are against the back wall,” Asami says the moment she’s in earshot.

As Korra is about to turn Bolin in that direction and walk him there, Mako holds his hand out in an effort to stop Korra from walking. “It’s alright,” His voice has an uncharacteristically soothing tone to it. “I can take him.”

Korra, Asami, and Bolin all nod in unison while Mako places his hand on his brother’s shoulder and they walk towards the back of the event hall, leaving Korra and Asami standing next to each other.

“In the meantime,” Korra has trouble placing the voice she hears. “Want to dance?”

Korra feels a sense of vertigo with the other dances twirling around her. She feels fingers land lightly on the back of her arm, electricity sparking from the very spot. She turns to meet the owner’s eyes, and her face must portray her exact amount of confusion.

“Don’t worry,” Asami says. “It’s fine if we dance. At events like these, it’s called networking.”

And  _ oh _ , Asami must think that the offer to dance is causing her apprehension, because two girls dancing might be something to be wary of. And no, Korra doesn’t think that at all, but how can she reiterate herself now? It’s the overwhelming sense of  _ rich _ that Korra has a hard time grasping onto. Money isn’t breathtaking to Korra like it seems to be for other people, especially Mako and Bolin, but the pressure of  _ rich _ certainly is. And Asami is drenched in it. In a way, it’s hypnotizing and it sends Korra’s head spinning, heart racing out of her chest. Korra feels her cheeks warm with blood and this cannot be smooth anymore. What is happening?

Korra’s eyes remove themselves from watching Asami’s smirk grow and now she notices the quirk in the girl’s eyebrow. Without a doubt, this is a trainwreck. “Yeah,” Korra clears her throat. “I’d love to.” Korra adds in a slanted smile for redemption.

“Do you know how to waltz?” Asami asks as she steps closer, hands folded politely in front of her. She’s both disarming and intense, and Korra nods feeling drawn to agree to nearly anything this girl could propose. “Mind leading then?”

Korra holds out her arm in response, and it seems that the second Asami places her hand comfortably in Korra’s, the entire dancefloor falls to a complete stop and every light draws onto Asami as a spotlight. Suddenly, Korra understands why the cameras are drawn to her; she isn’t just intense, she’s  _ intoxicating _ and it’s truly enough for Korra to get high off the feeling. She hopes her palms aren’t clammy as Asami grabs her other hand and guides it to rest above her waist, over the thin gold belt that sits perfectly against her red dress. Asami’s own hand snakes its way over Korra’s shoulder and rests lightly there, slightly to the side of her spine. This certainly is more intimate than a formal dance, but after taking a quick glance around the dance floor to check if anyone truly is staring at them, Korra notices that not many pairs hold formal poses either. She knows it’s getting later in the night, so maybe they’re all a couple drinks in? Korra wishes she were too.

They begin moving; Korra’s feet take strides from muscle memory and she could be walking on the ocean for all she cares. There’s space between her and Asami out of respect, but Korra finds it magnetic, and she can’t decide whether she’s being pulled closer or repelled away. She swears the room is constructed of gold and Asami very well could be the shining pedestal of the room. Maybe Asami is the main attraction of the room, Korra begins to realize, and it’s completely purposeful and drenched in intention.

“So tell me,” the woman’s sultry voice floats into Korra’s atmosphere, hangs there and inflates. “How do you know Bolin and Mako?”

Korra quickly ponders if this question, like Asami’s aura, is driven by intention, but she doesn’t hesitate too long before she responds. “I know both of them from the gym. We all used to practice boxing together and some other stuff. Mako does security stuff now and Bolin obviously got into acting, but I’m still fighting. We’re all still really close though.”

Korra isn’t sure how much to reveal about the boys’ lives or hers, but she notices Asami’s eyes on her, so she meets the attentive green eyes. Asami holds a smile and slight crinkles form at the corners of her eyes.

“So that’s why you’re so light on your feet.” Asami says it as if it’s the realization of the century and Korra feels a warm sensation blossom through her chest at the thought of impressing this woman.

“I’d hope so,” Korra responds -- the warm sensation spreads to her cheeks. “I’ve been in jiu-jitsu for practically my whole life. I’ve been in a few main ticket fights in the last year or so too.”

There’s a peculiar light that sparks through Asami’s green eyes -- a light that resembles the gold accents of Korra’s surroundings. Her eyebrows pinch together in thought as she says, “I would be honored to roll with you sometime then.”

Korra practically feels her body buzz to life with surprise and excitement. “You practice too?” A blush blooms over her cheeks as she realizes she has this girl pinned incredibly wrong. Dare she say  _ prissy _ . “That’d be amazing to spar with--”

“My apologies for interrupting you ladies,” there’s suddenly a gentle hand on Korra’s shoulder, and she quickly realizes there’s a matching one on Asami’s shoulder. “May I?”

It takes a beat for Korra to understand the man’s gesture. She takes in his features -- his dark hair, golden framed glasses, and a beard that reflects every aristocrat’s dream -- only to realize that his body is angled towards Asami and he intends on brushing Korra away. “Of course, no problem at all.”

It’s the air that swells with wealth and honor that pushes Korra away from her dancing partner.

Asami meets her eyes once more as she frames with the older man. “I’m sure I’ll see you again,” she says with a warm smile and a gentle wink. Korra’s view of her is cut away and she’s left with nothing more than to abide by her own responsibilities. Korra walks towards the back of the grand room, studying her hands in hopes that the electrifying feeling she had while dancing was simply adrenaline and nothing more. Implications can be dangerous, and Korra is in no position to involve herself with people who are more than willing to drown in gold. She came to this city, to this life, for a fresh start. She reminds herself of that as she reaches the bathrooms. She glances up in time to see Mako and a drowsy Bolin emerge from the door. A mutual nod between Mako and Korra allows the three to turn and walk towards the exit without further communication.

A black car, with heavily tinted windows, pulls up to the curb and the three pile in. After all, it’s all a part of the grandeur and the submission to an appearance of wealth.

Bolin sits in the middle and leans heavily into Mako, a heavy head stranded onto a sturdy shoulder. Mako peers over his brother’s head. “Where did Asami end up,” he voices his curiosity in a tone hardly above a whisper.

Korra gives Mako a recap of the events, beginning with the older man’s intrusion, nervous that mentioning the dance or the girls’ conversation might make her blush.

“Oh,” Mako exclaims as much as he can in his quieted tone. “That was Hiroshi.”

“That’s the guy that asked you to escort Asami in, wasn’t it?” The pieces begin to shift into place in Korra’s memory.

“That’s the one.” Mako says it with finality as he centers his vision to the front of the car, his face clearly strained as he’s deep in thought.

“Oh,” is all Korra can say in response. The word is drawn out, leaving a bitter aftertaste on her tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays! As a celebration, I thought I'd post a new chapter :)
> 
> I know I'm like *cough cough* super spotty on updates and schedules, but hopefully after finals I'll be able to update this fic a bit more consistently. Thank you for reading and I'll see you in the next one :)

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr


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